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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431777">this is me trying</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletfish/pseuds/scarletfish'>scarletfish</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Brief Reference to Past Sexual Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Identity stuff, Juno has PTSD, M/M, Past Child Abuse, difficulty sleeping, no beta we just die</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:55:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,403</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431777</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletfish/pseuds/scarletfish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It feels foolish after all this time. A forty-year-old reflex forcing him awake every time someone down the hall flushes a toilet or coughs too loudly. </p><p>[Juno comes to terms with a decades-old trauma and Peter realizes he might possibly, perhaps, have some trust issues. At least they're trying.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>237</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the most early s3 Jupeter song I've ever heard and that's the that on that. (Projecting my own issues onto Juno? I would never.)  TW in tags. </p><p>I was working on dwyw while listening to Taylor Swift's new album and my brain was like "hey super fast idea!" (It was not super fast.) This one's less plot, more indulging in my favorite trope of Juno forming healthier patterns and continuing to heal with the help of the crew.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 1</strong>
</p><p><em> I've been having a hard time adjusting<br/></em> <em> I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting </em></p><p><em> I didn't know if you'd care if I came back<br/></em> <em> I have a lot of regrets about that </em></p><p>-this is me trying, Taylor Swift</p><p> </p><hr/><p>When Juno and Rita joined Buddy’s crew, there were three empty rooms left on the Carte Blanche. Juno picked the one furthest from the kitchen.</p><p>He never slept well in unfamiliar places. His first morning on the ship, he startled awake to drawers quietly closing and mugs clinking.</p><p>Logically, he knew it was only Jet making coffee. It still locked his bones in place. He lay there frozen, heart racing, long after Jet had already retired to the garage for daily maintenance on the RUBY7. </p><p>Within the first two days, he could identify his crewmates by the sound of their footsteps. Rita often wore socks, Jet had a favorite pair of slippers. Ransom was nearly silent. </p><p>When he was awake, at least.</p><p>“You’re a thief, for god’s sake, how are you even still alive?” Juno whispers accusingly at the door across the hall from him. From within the room, Peter snores softly in response.</p><p>To be fair, no one else is lining up to complain- they probably haven’t even noticed. Juno’s just a light sleeper. Always has been. </p><p>His ma’s meds knocked her out pretty good, so if Sarah Steel was up and moving around early in the morning, it wasn’t a good sign. Sometimes she was just working, putting off sleep until she could map the chaos in her brain onto a storyboard. Those nights were okay, as long as he and Ben were quiet.</p><p>Sometimes she was hungry. If Juno was still up she’d make them both sugar toast and tell him some new secret about Andromeda. Those were the best nights.</p><p>Some nights she was just out for blood. Slamming cabinets, crashing dishes. Juno does his best to forget those nights, even if his fight-or-flight response never will. </p><p>For a moment he considers raiding the liquor cabinet again. Vespa will notice though, she always does. He tugs a pillow over his head, resigned to a long string of sleepless nights in space.</p><p> </p><p>________________</p><p> </p><p>It feels foolish after all this time. To be ruled by a forty-year-old reflex that forces him awake every time someone flushes a toilet down the hall or coughs too loudly. </p><p>Every time someone climbs into bed with him. Juno's heart starts pounding, his stomach churns, and he can't move. Sometimes he catches his breath within minutes. But other times it's almost an hour before he can control his body again, before the overwhelming fear fades.</p><p>He's always exhausted.</p><p>New relationships are the worst. Every body in his bed reminds him of a different body, suffocating and constant. <em>A face that fills him with dread even though he can barely remember it.</em> </p><p>Sure, he’s had long-term partners, made it work when he had to. But coping mechanisms from Mars aren’t going to cut it up here in space. It’s difficult to drink yourself into oblivion when the stab-happy medic keeps track of his tab like a stingy bartender.</p><p>(Which, all right, if Juno had known they didn’t sell alcohol on Venus, he probably wouldn’t have polished off the whiskey directly before their next and only grocery stop for the month... on Venus. You live and you learn.)</p><p>(And there’s no point wishing for Ben to card his fingers through his hair like he did when they were kids. No point remembering the blanket forts they made on his brother’s bed, as if they could conjure an indestructible force field like Andromeda. Because they weren't indestructible, and Benzaiten was no super-warrior. He was just a kid, until one day he wasn’t, end of story.)</p><p>So he can’t drink, and he can’t have his brother back. There’s another option just down the hall. She’s never made him feel pathetic. </p><p>Back when Juno was still in training at the HCPD, he would just pick up extra night shifts and drink shitty coffee until he passed out. After Ben, well… he traded the coffee for something harder and kept right on going.</p><p>He was so used to feeling like he was going to crawl out of his skin every time he was sober that the short woman in the pink vinyl jacket took him by surprise.</p><p>Rita bullied her way into his office insisting that she was his new secretary… and then refused to leave. </p><p>Juno tried everything- he shouted, he swore, he threatened to call the police (biggest bluff of the century)... and finally he turned the comms connection off and waited. She couldn’t work without access, so she’d have to go somewhere else, right?</p><p>He almost fell out of his chair in surprise when he woke up with drool on his face to Rita crunching snacks, halfway through some horror stream. Apparently she’d rebooted the internet and started watching a couple hours earlier. He hadn’t even stirred. Juno hadn’t slept that deeply since… well. Rita's an unexpected glitch in his wiring.</p><p>Like his brain took one look at her and went, <em> this one’s safe</em>. </p><p>Nureyev, on the other hand… his brain took one look at Nureyev and set off an internal fire alarm. </p><p>Nureyev. Ransom. Peter. Juno isn’t sure what to call him anymore. He’s been trying to figure it out ever since he swiped the dirt from his eyes and looked up to see the thief standing there, haloed with light like some outer-rim angel. </p><p>Juno gets the distinct impression he would prefer it if Juno were whisked away in a sand storm and never called him anything again.</p><p> </p><p>______________</p><p>
  <em>2 Weeks Later</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, just close the door and drop the silly moniker. I already regret choosing it.”</p><p>He doesn’t want to be called Ransom <em> or </em> Peter, apparently. Juno’s unreasonably flattered that no matter how many names Peter’s picked up and discarded in the past year, he still considers ‘Nureyev’ precious.</p><p>Which is stupid. There's definitely some practical reason for him to hold onto it- but Juno still fights a smile when the thief invites him to sit down. He almost forgets what he planned to say in the first place. <em>Stupid</em>.</p><p><em> I think we should talk too, </em>Nureyev says, and suddenly sweat is beading on the back of his neck. He wasn't expecting that. Not in a million years. This is it, probably the only chance Juno will ever get. It’s already more than he deserves.</p><p>“Listen, I just… wanted to say I’m sorry. The last time we saw each other, that night… I messed up. I don’t know if that hurt, or how much it hurt, but that doesn’t matter — I shouldn’tve just walked out. And I know what it looked like, hell, I know what it was, but…” </p><p>Ransom is still. Just watching him. He soldiers on. “That night- in that tomb- I accepted that my life was over, that I mattered because I <em> died </em> for something that mattered. But then, I... didn’t.”</p><p>He inhales deeply. This is the hard part. “That’s why I left, I… was scared that as soon as we got off Mars you’d realize what a big mistake you’d made. I couldn’t watch you...” <em> Nope, never mind, not going there</em>. Juno awkwardly shifts mid-sentence. “I’m just, sorry it took me so long to figure out. But I don’t want to die for the things I care about anymore. I want to live for them.” </p><p><em> You’re one of those things</em>. “...I don’t know if I even can earn back your trust, but I’d like to try that… too.”</p><p>Peter still doesn’t respond. Juno fidgets. His face is on fire and he’s starting to feel a bit nauseous. </p><p>What if Peter was relieved to wake up and find him gone that night? What if he was dreading following through on an offer made when they were both high on adrenaline and sleep-deprived?</p><p>Or maybe he’s just angry that he has to work in close quarters with the asshole who promised him the stars and then slunk back into the sewers because it was all he’d ever known.</p><p><em> Maybe</em>, a voice in Juno’s head whispers, <em> he doesn’t care that you’re here at all</em>. </p><p>That last thought hits him like a sucker punch, and he decides to take the hit and get out.</p><p>“Yeah, so… I just wanted to say that, and that I’m sorry, so I’ll stop botheri-”</p><p>“You weren’t the only one at fault,” Nureyev pulls his glasses off, swipes at the lenses with his untucked shirt, and then sighs. “And I’m sorry if my behavior has implied that I don’t know that.”</p><p>The thief slides his glasses on, glances at him quickly, and then starts speaking intently to the wall in front of him.</p><p>“I knew, deep down, that you weren’t in a good headspace. You just lost your eye for god’s sake, potentially your career- nearly your life as well. It wasn’t the time for grand gestures.”</p><p>“I-”</p><p>“But you’re right.” Peter drops his gaze to his hands, folded neatly in his lap. “You could’ve told me. I would have understood,” he squints back at the wall in front of him, still avoiding looking at Juno, and adds, “or maybe not... but the point is, we’ve both made mistakes, Juno.”</p><p>Juno tries to squelch the soaring in his chest. Peter is choosing his words incredibly carefully, which means he’s trying very hard to conceal his feelings. When he smiles, there’s something deeper behind it.</p><p>It will be some time before everything is forgiven. But maybe they can try.</p><p>“I imagine the rogue detective has saved up quite a few stories since our last encounter- I’d like to hear them, at some point, if that’s all right with you?”</p><p>“Oh- I mean, sure,” Juno stutters, “yeah that sounds good to me.” They’re inches apart now, but they don’t touch. It’s irritating, the way Juno’s said everything he can think of, but still feels something bigger sitting in his chest. He has no idea how to communicate it. </p><p>So he says the first stupid thing that comes into his head.</p><p>“Great! Good chat, um, yes, you’re probably tired now, but I would really like to talk. More. Soon.” <em> God Steel, could you make this any more awkward? </em> “I missed-” <em> you</em>, “...talking.” He wants to punch himself in the face a bit.</p><p>It elicits a soft smile from Nureyev though, and maybe that’s worth making a fool of himself for. “As far as I’m aware, I’m free tomorrow,” the thief prompts.</p><p>Juno blushes even harder and scrambles to keep up with the changing mood. “Great, I’ll uh, see if I can fit you in my schedule.”</p><p>“It’s a date, then.” Peter says it with a grin, but there’s a tightness around his eyes. A question. <em> Is this okay? </em></p><p>Juno nods firmly. “Yup. Tomorrow then… goodnight, Nureyev.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Juno.”</p><p> </p><p>_____________</p><p> </p><p>After a glass of water and a bit of frantic pacing, he’s still way too riled up to go to sleep, so he pads towards the meeting room. It’s mostly dark, but there are soft lights flickering and a quiet murmuring of voices. </p><p>The room is comfortable, with soft seating and tall, sloping windows. The middle window doubles as a holoscreen, making it perfect for strategy meetings. A basket of soft blankets sits next to the biggest armchair, and a short coffee table rests in the center. </p><p>“Mistah Steel!” Of course Rita would gravitate towards the largest screen on the ship. Juno suspects the small refrigerator in the corner was his former secretary’s doing as well. She bounces up and down on the center couch cushion.</p><p>“I found this amazing stream and there’s aliens and love and adventure in space! You wanna come watch?” The brightly colored figures dance across the screen, working up to a song.</p><p>Juno’s chest feels warm as he rolls his eyes. “Depends, are there vampires? If there are vampires, I’m out-” </p><p>“Nooooo, only aliens Boss! You’ll love it I promise c’mon, there’s <em> no </em> blood, and that one kinda reminds me of Miss Buddy, and <em> that </em>one kinda reminds me of Miss Vespa-”</p><p>“Okay now that, I’ve gotta see- move over, you’re hogging the blankets.” </p><p>He’d never admit it, but right now, millions of miles from Mars and completely untethered from the familiar, there’s nowhere he’d rather be than snuggled up under a pile of blankets while Rita keeps up a steady stream of commentary.</p><p>He makes it through two episodes.</p><p>They’re short, and not half bad. From what he can gather, (Rita pauses it every couple of minutes to give him a ‘short summary’ of the entire first season) it’s about alien rocks living on a beach with their son and trying to protect humanity. The pastel one seems to have some sort of complicated history with the pink one, and the red one <em> does </em> kind of remind him of Buddy. </p><p>Next thing he knows, he’s blinking awake on the plush couch as the simulated daytime lights softly filter through the ship. He slept through the night. He rarely ever sleeps through the night, and <em> never </em> in an unfamiliar place surrounded by strangers.</p><p>Okay, not exactly strangers. But Buddy could kill him with both hands tied behind her back, Vespa’s already tried, Jet is practically a reformed war criminal, and the two people he knows best are his secretary and his ex-<em>something </em> who has a penchant for knives.</p><p>It makes no sense. But Juno knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. That's how you end up losing a limb.</p><p>He drops his blanket into the basket and plods toward the kitchen, hoping Jet left some coffee when he got up that morning.</p><p> </p><p>_____________________</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Jet, this coffee is delectable.”</p><p>“It is the same blend we buy at every stop. I cannot take credit as I had nothing to do with its creation.”</p><p>Juno takes one step into the kitchen and almost walks right back out. The scene in front of him is… strange, to say the least. Tense enough to cut with a plasma blade, to say a bit more.</p><p>“So humble! I must have another mug.” Peter rises gracefully with a flourish of his blue silk dressing robe, and makes his way to the coffee maker. </p><p>Jet waits until the thief has started pouring to remark evenly, “Moderation is the greatest mark of self-control.” </p><p>Peter winces and shoves the pot back onto its stand, sloshing a bit of coffee on the counter as he does. “Such wise words! Thank you for the reminder.” He turns to the third and final party in the kitchen and gestures at his half-full mug. “Vespa, would <em> you </em> like any more coffee this fine morning?”</p><p>Vespa rakes a hand through her cropped green hair and shoves back from the table. “Nuh-uh. Nope. I can’t do this anymore.” </p><p>Juno watches, bewildered, as she sees him standing in the hall, throws her hand up in exasperation, and shoulders her way past him muttering angrily, “Well <em> now </em> it makes sense.”</p><p>Jet continues sipping calmly from his mug, and Peter abruptly notices Juno lingering in the doorway. “Juno! Would you- would you like some coffee?” He holds his mug out hopefully, and Juno decides to cut him a break.</p><p>“Sure. Thanks Ransom.” Their fingers brush in the transfer, and Juno blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “Do you even drink coffee?”</p><p>Peter’s bright smile cracks a bit and Juno instantly feels like he’s said something wrong. Maybe he’s paranoid, but...</p><p>He distinctly remembers Nureyev expressing a distaste for the stuff- Juno’s never seen him drink it, under any pseudonym. Jet looks tired, and something’s set Vespa off. Miniscule details, but Juno can’t stop collecting and analyzing them. </p><p>
  <em>He’s got to stop doing this, or he’ll drive himself crazy.</em>
</p><p>“Never mind, just woke up. Where’s Buddy anyway?”</p><p>Peter opens his mouth, but Jet speaks first. “She has left. Rita suggested we let you sleep and fill you in later. Buddy agreed. Vespa and Ransom had a disagreement on how to proceed with their next task, and Buddy retired to her room to make a decision.” </p><p>At this, Peter interjects, “I meant no offense, I only believe it’s smarter to conserve resources where we can-”</p><p>“And I believe you are wrong,” Jet says simply. “We all have our blind spots.”</p><p>Juno's pieced together enough about the earlier conversation to wonder what exactly Buddy has to consider. If he’s right, and Peter asked to complete their next mission solo- well, it’s not much more than a glorified grocery run, but there’s no way Buddy’s letting anyone head into a potentially dangerous situation without backup. Peter should have known better.</p><p>And if it was Vespa he was trying to boot…</p><p>Juno holds back a groan. The thief isn’t making things any easier for himself, that’s for sure. He swallows his coffee in one gulp. “So, I'm gonna make some toast, and maybe someone can catch me u-”</p><p>“OOOOooOoOO or WAFFLES!” Rita bounds into the room and plops down in a chair, her feet dangling off the edge. “You promised you’d make waffles today boss!”</p><p>Juno rolls his eyes and starts rinsing his coffee mug. “Not your boss, Rita. And I’m pretty sure my exact words were ‘we don’t have a waffle maker, it is physically impossible for me to make you waffles.’”</p><p>Rita bounces on her hands. “Well maybe it was in a dream then, but either way you definitely promised, and you can’t break a promise Mistah Steel, not even if,” she lets out a sharp gasp and Juno glances back to see Buddy sweep into the room. “Miss Buddy, don’tcha think Mistah Steel should make pancakes for breakfast?!”</p><p>“I <em> told </em> you Rita, we <em> don’t have</em>- wait, what?”</p><p>Buddy drops into her chair at the head of the table and smiles at Juno. “What a kind offer Juno- I didn’t know you could cook. Pancakes would be lovely.” She crosses her legs and leans over to start talking to Jet.</p><p>“Your wish is my command,” Juno deadpans, pushing off from the counter tiredly.</p><p>Still, something warm and light rises in his chest as he starts gathering ingredients and heating the stove. It’s been a while. A long while, really- he can’t remember the last time he cooked, much less for someone else. He remembers Buddy's insistence that they be a <em>family</em>. It feels like forever ago. </p><p>Unless they're planning a mission or eating a meal together, they're hardly in the same room. But now...</p><p>Ransom's leaning quietly against the far wall, watching him curiously. Rita's babbling about something to Jet. About ten minutes later, Vespa storms back in and sprawls into her chair next to Buddy. There's a low volume of chatter, punctuated occasionally by a loud comment from Rita.</p><p>The smell of butter and warm dough rises through the small compartment. Juno pulls out some meat he <em> thinks </em> is bacon and some oddly shaped eggs to add to the meal as well. Jet pulls out dishes for everyone, and as tense as things should be, they… aren’t. Everyone is distracted, and Juno starts humming some stupid Oldtown ditty from a long time ago.</p><p>He used to ham it up for his brother when they were alone, spinning and flipping food over his head. It never failed to make Ben laugh. He flicks his wrist and does a tiny flip of his current pancake, just to see if he still can. He’s pumping his fist in victory when it lands, so caught up in his memories that for a moment he thinks the tiny chuckle from behind him<em> is</em> Ben.</p><p>Of course, it’s Peter. He’s still leaning against a nearby wall, watching Juno cook with a tiny smile on his face. He looks so <em> fond </em> that Juno wants to melt into the floor like a mortified slab of butter.</p><p>Or grab Peter's face and kiss him senseless.</p><p>He doesn’t do either of those things. But he smiles back, a small offering, and when he turns back to the stove, he doesn’t stop humming either. </p><p> </p><p>____________</p><p> </p><p>The good mood lasts until he wakes two hours after lights out to a familiar noise from the hall.</p><p>
  <em> Tap, tap, tap. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. </em>
</p><p>In another world, hell maybe even on a different day, Juno would’ve gone back to sleep and let her be. He knows better than anyone how claustrophobic the night can get.</p><p>But he’s tired and cranky, so screw the high road.</p><p>He slams his door open. “What in the living hell, Vespa.” </p><p>“Argh!” She shrieks and a knife whistles past his ear faster than he can track it. She takes a moment to register Juno, closing her eyes and shaking her head a few times. When she’s convinced herself he’s really there, she marches over furiously and wrenches the knife from the wall.</p><p>“I knew you weren’t the brightest, but I’d recommend you <em> didn’t </em> sneak up on me in dark corridors. I’m running out of reasons to <em> miss</em>.” She brandishes the knife threateningly.</p><p>“My bad, it sounded like someone was learning to <em> tap dance </em> outside my room, didn’t wanna miss the show.”</p><p>“Don’t worry Steel, no one’s gunning for your crown- you’re still the dancing queen,” she snarls.</p><p>“Thanks, you know I thought after-” Juno’s hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion and trails off. It’s not Vespa’s fault that he sees monsters in every shadow. It's not Vespa's fault his brain is convinced that a good day makes for a bad night.</p><p>“Could you just, go pace in the meeting room? Or somewhere with a rug? I won’t sleep with you out here.”</p><p>Vespa crosses her arms defensively. “<em>So </em> sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, princess. Drink some fucking tea and knock yourself out.”</p><p>Juno feels himself getting heated again. “Right, I’ll just make some, some leaf water! That’ll solve all my problems!”</p><p>The medic throws her hands in the air and storms off to the kitchen, and for a moment, Juno’s so surprised she’s leaving, he just watches her go. <em>That was easy.</em></p><p>Right as he turns to go back in his room, something small and light <em> thwaps </em> into the back of his head.</p><p>“Ow!”</p><p>“Figured you probably can’t reach the top shelf anyway. Will you stop whining now?”</p><p>Juno picks the tiny box she threw at him off the floor and squints at the label. It’s written in a language he’s not familiar with. “Are there- what’s even in this stuff?!”</p><p>Vespa rolls her eyes and walks away. “Put it back when you’re done or I’ll tell Jet you stole it.”</p><p>If it belongs to Jet, it can't be that bad, right? At least it probably won't kill him. Juno brings the box into his room and opens it to find neat lines of tea bags. On the back in jagged black marker, someone’s written ‘for sleep’. </p><p>Juno sniffs the container and nearly chokes. It smells <em> disgusting.  </em></p><p> </p><p>_________________</p><p>
  <em>1 Week Later</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I’m jealous, you know.” </p><p>Juno cautiously closes Peter’s door behind him and sets his tea on Peter's nightstand. (He hates the taste, usually singes his fingers on the mug, and the roof of his mouth is beginning to feel like sandpaper.) Right now though, he wants to pick up the burning mug and start chugging, just to have something to do with his hands.</p><p>Nureyev’s been like this all day- morose, moping, making vague statements and then refusing to elaborate. He's currently laying on his bed facing the ceiling, expressionless.</p><p>It’s freaking Juno out.</p><p>He starts in cautiously, testing the waters. “Yeah, Jet’s really the only one who managed to pull off that maintenance uniform. Don't worry, I still think you're pretty.”</p><p>Peter doesn’t react. After a couple minutes of unbearable silence (Juno almost twists his fingers off), Peter flips his bedsheet over, leaving a space beside him. A silent invitation. Juno slides in with relief.</p><p>He’s been in Nureyev’s room pretty much every night. It's become a pattern- he and Peter talk for a couple hours, and then Juno leaves, often passing his room in favor of sleeping on the couch.</p><p>Sometimes talking leads to other things; they both have trouble keeping their hands to themselves. But they don’t cross that line again. Juno is starting to get the impression Peter is protecting himself. So this vulnerability is... big. Maybe a step forward?</p><p>Juno’s pretty sure he’s going to fuck it up anyway, but the thought is nice.</p><p>“Okay, bad joke. Sorry. You’re just making me… I’m worried about you, is all.” Again, no response. But Peter grasps his hand like he’s afraid Juno might leave, and Juno squeezes back. He’s fine waiting. As long as it takes.</p><p>After about ten minutes he sits up and Peter tenses. He relaxes when he realizes Juno is only reaching for his slightly cooled mug. After a couple minutes of sipping and flipping through an old paperback brought from his room, Peter speaks again. To someone else, his voice might sound casual, but Juno detects a hard edge underneath the flippant words.</p><p>“You decide to start drinking tea one night, and you decide if you like it, or if you don’t. You choose to continue, or to stop. You drink your coffee the same way every morning.”</p><p>Juno cocks his head. “Well sure, I guess... does this have anything to do with why you’ve been downing coffee like your life depends on it all week?”</p><p>Peter curls in towards himself, turning his back to Juno to stare at the wall. His eyes are shining.</p><p>“I’m good at my job. I am- I <em> was </em> the best thief in the galaxy. Despite what Buddy might think, I- my method is a strength. But I’ve never had to…”</p><p>Juno waits a moment, then prompts, “You’ve never had to...”</p><p>“Rose takes his tea with sugar." Peter says bitterly. "His favorite shade of lipstick is “A Night out in Neptune”, and when they stopped selling it he bought the entire remaining stock. Glass has a penchant for old horror novels and is a terrible driver. Dauphin hates wearing rings. I could tell you their favorite colors, past lovers, and their moon alignment, but I couldn’t-”</p><p>Juno places a comforting hand lightly on Peter’s shoulder, wishing he could see his face. Peter stays curled towards the wall, but then, to Juno’s surprise, he reaches up to grip his hand tightly. Like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the ship. His knuckles are white, and it's perhaps the first time Juno has ever assumed Peter Nureyev to be <em>fragile</em>. </p><p>“Sometimes,” he murmurs so faintly that Juno has to strain to hear him, “I’m scared I- fabricated Peter Nureyev too.” </p><p>And Juno scrambles to wrap his head around the sentiment. He can understand on a basic level- playing so many roles over so many years could mess with your sense of identity. Peter takes his work seriously, deeply embodying each persona. Sometimes it takes him a few days to completely shake out of it, and some newly fabricated characteristics linger for weeks after a job is done.</p><p>But this fear... it isn't familiar in the least. Juno’s always been his own nemesis. He can’t get away from himself. For god’s sake, he’s just spent over a year painstakingly chipping away at the parts of himself that were actively trying to <em> kill </em> him. A vacation from Juno Steel? That would be terrific. Still, he tries to go to whatever headspace Peter is trapped in.</p><p>“Okay, so... you’ve buried yourself a few too many times. We’ve just gotta dig you out-”</p><p>“What if there’s nothing?” Finally, Peter turns to face Juno. He’s not crying, but his eyes are rimmed with red. “What if I dig, and dig, and dig, and when I get to the center, there’s just… nothing there?”</p><p><em> What if I’m not anything? </em>If Buddy were here, she would know exactly what to say to calm that fear.</p><p>But she isn't. Juno is. So he slides down next to Nureyev, wraps his arms around him, and says, “You’re always a terrible driver.”</p><p>Peter twists to face him, indignation taking over. “Excuse me?”</p><p>Juno swipes a thumb across Peter’s cheek and smiles. “No matter what name you’re using, you’ve always been terrible at driving.”</p><p>“I… I have not!” </p><p>“And every single one of your aliases has preferred tea to coffee- I’ve watched you grimace throughout every cup this week. So I think we can strike “coffee” off Peter Nureyev’s list of preferences.”</p><p>“Someone’s been paying very close attention to my beverages.”</p><p>“<em>I have</em>.” Juno tries to project sincerity from every line on his face. “Nureyev, you’re <em> not </em> nothing.”</p><p>Peter sighs, covers Juno’s hand with his own, and then gently removes it. “Thank you. I’m sorry, the argument with our captain this morning seems to have put me more out of sorts than I expected. I don’t mean to-” Juno tries to protest, and their words get tangled. </p><p>“No you’re not, that’s not-”</p><p>“You’re welcome to stay tonight-”</p><p>“You don’t have to- oh. Oh!”</p><p>“Just- just to sleep. If you’d like.”</p><p>“Yeah, I would- I’d like that, I mean. Yeah.”</p><p>“All right.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“I’ll… see you in the morning then?” </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>___________________</p><p>
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</p><p>He makes it about fifteen minutes after Peter falls asleep before slipping out.</p><p>Juno’s trying his best to prove he’s a changed lady. He wants Peter to see that he doesn’t run away from the uncomfortable stuff anymore. </p><p>Okay, technically, he’s <em> walking </em> away from the uncomfortable stuff. But like, temporarily. With intent to return.</p><p>He makes it to the kitchen without much noise, and proceeds to slam his head into the cabinet when he turns to get a glass.<em> “Fuck!” </em> He kicks the counter for good measure. It doesn’t make him feel better. He slides to the cool floor and rests his pounding head against the counter.</p><p>It isn’t fair. Nureyev isn’t loud, he hasn’t snored since that first week, and sometimes he’s so still that Juno sticks a hand under his nose to make sure he isn’t dead. </p><p>But none of that matters to Juno’s brain. Every time he’s about to drift off, Peter will twitch, or breathe, or just <em> exist </em>a bit too loudly and Juno’s heart will start pounding and his muscles will go tense. </p><p>They’ve only slept near each other in Miasma’s underground torture chamber of doom, when Juno was so exhausted he couldn’t think straight. Now that he’s safe, it seems, he’ll never sleep again.</p><p>How is he supposed to explain that to Peter? Peter’s dealing with his own demons, but eventually he’s going to notice the bags under Juno’s eyes and the naps he steals during mealtimes. How do you tell someone you lo- <em> like </em> a lot, that you can’t sleep near them because you feel unsafe? That no matter what they do, they might never be able to fix that?</p><p>Juno's thoughts spiral, and his feet follow. He starts walking, out of the kitchen and down the hall. Something to unpack in the morning. Maybe never. Maybe he’ll get tired enough that it won’t matter. Or maybe he can have Rita come in and knock him on the head every night. Subtly. A subtle sleep fairy.</p><p>God, he’s exhausted.</p><p>He’s almost hoping to see flickering lights when he nears the meeting room, but upon finding it dark and quiet, realizes he's relieved. Rita’s already asleep, or perhaps preparing for the mission tomorrow. </p><p>He doesn’t bother turning on the holoscreen, but he does pull one of the fuzzy blankets from the bin and wraps up before collapsing on the couch. He’ll set his comms and slip back into bed with Peter before the thief is even awake. He can say he was getting a glass of water or something.</p><p>Anything. Anything so Peter doesn't wake up alone again. Anything so he can just...</p><p> </p><p>______________</p><p> </p><p>The morning filters into his awareness slowly, which is strange. </p><p>He’s not quite sure what woke him up, but it’s… bright? He squints at his comms. That can’t be right. <em> Oh no. Oh no oh no. </em>Not only is it past the time he was supposed to head back to Nureyev’s room, he’s missed breakfast too.</p><p>“Shit, <em> shit</em>, you broken piece of garbage-”</p><p>"Mistah Ransom, I found him!" Juno twists his upper body over the back of the couch to see Rita's head disappear from the doorway. He hears her plodding away down the hall as a tall, lanky figure ducks in to take her place.</p><p>“Juno?” Peter’s standing in the doorway to the meeting room. He looks torn between bemused and concerned. “Did you- Juno, did you sleep in here?” He must have checked a few places before finding Juno here, but to Juno's sleep addled brain, everything feels like it's happening incredibly quickly.</p><p>“Peter!” He takes a deep breath and tries to order half-sleeping thoughts. He fell asleep, Peter probably thinks he's been avoiding him, maybe even knocked on Juno's door, but Juno never answered. “I’m sorry, I- my comms alarm must not have gone off, I meant to… I meant to be back before you woke up.”</p><p>“I’m… not sure I understand what you mean.” Peter’s face smooths a bit, and Juno’s heart clenches. <em> Wrong, it’s coming out wrong</em>. <em>Tell him the whole thing.</em></p><p>“I’m sorry, after our conversation… I mean, I wanted to be there for you, I just, I couldn’t stay… It’s a physical thing,” Juno emphasizes, trying to make Peter understand. “It has nothing to do with you, you’ve gotta understand that-” Peter cuts him off before he can finish even one explanation.</p><p>“It’s fine, Juno.” Which is frustrating, because it’s <em> not </em> fine, obviously. </p><p>Before he can try again, Peter’s next words stop him cold.</p><p>“This is actually good, I promised I would be more… forthcoming, and I meant that. So I’m going to be very straightforward now." Peter's hands are tucked behind his back. They're his worst tell, and Juno made the mistake of telling him that. Now he can't tell what Peter's feeling, and if Juno can't tell what he's feeling then he can't <em>fix</em> it.</p><p>Peter plows ahead. "I can’t give you the kind of… relationship you want. This won’t affect our professional responsibilities, of course, but personally I think it best if we sever ties.” <em>What?</em></p><p>“You- wait, seriously, after last night? After everything we’ve been through, <em> this </em> is going to be the thing you can’t get over?” Juno racks his brain, trying to figure out if he’s done or said anything else wrong, if he could’ve misread what happened just eight hours ago. How did they get here? Is it really that big of a deal that he fell asleep out here once? There has to be something else, something he's missing. He forces himself to calm down and lower his voice, uses the words Rita suggested.</p><p>“Look, I think I’m not communicating very well right now. Let me get some coffee in me and then we can talk about this before you and Vespa leave?” </p><p>The thief shrugs. “I don’t see the point.” Peter’s voice is colder than Juno’s ever heard it. Then, quieter, “The definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. ”</p><p>Juno feels things slipping out of control, but he has no idea how to grasp onto them again. He feels like they’re increasingly having two separate conversations, and trying to explain is like bashing his head against a wall. So he says something he knows will punch through. Something he instantly regrets.</p><p>"I know you’re having some sort of identity crisis, <em>Ransom</em>, but you don’t get to take that out on me!” He regrets the words almost as soon as they leave his mouth. He doesn't take them back.</p><p>Peter pushes off the doorway and looks carefully at Juno, trying to read something in his body language.</p><p>If it were anyone else, Juno would expect them to storm over and shake him, or start shouting. But Juno seems to lack whatever Peter's looking for, because he only hesitates a moment before turning away. “My apologies. I won’t impose on you any longer.”</p><p>Juno’s chest feels like it’s going to split open. <em> What’s </em>happening<em> right now?  </em>“Peter-” he drops his voice, and it cracks. “Peter wait, don’t walk away like this.”</p><p>Peter jerks like he’s been shocked. Still, he doesn’t turn. After a moment, he continues walking, turning into the hall that leads to the garage. </p><p>"Yeah, I'm glad we worked that out too!" Juno shouts furiously after him.</p><p>He doesn’t look back.</p><p><br/><br/><em> And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad<br/></em> <em> I have a lot of regrets about that </em></p><p>
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Peter’s so dramatic he takes one sentence out of context and is like YEP THAT MAKES SENSE, SAY NO MORE, GOODBYE FOREVER LOVE OF MY LIFE. Featuring a fun cameo from Vespa's POV so it's not, like, entirely angst.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm soooo sorry for how long this took, I have nothing to say for myself except that covid knocked me out and I've had 0 motivation for anything since then. If you left a comment, you healed me and are the reason I didn't abandon this so ty &lt;3 I appreciate y'all so much</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Chapter 2</b>
</p><p> </p><p><em>"And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound<br/></em> <em>It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you<br/></em></p><p>
  <em>You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town"</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Don’t walk away like this!” </em>
</p><p>The words play on repeat through Peter’s head every night. No matter how many times he stuffs them in a file,<em> for future consideration </em>, they keep multiplying. Doubling, tripling, until he’s frantically bailing water out of a sinking boat.</p><p>
  <em> “Don’t walk away from me!” </em>
</p><p>Until he can’t tell whether he’s sloshing around in the past or the present. </p><p>No matter. Peter knows how to swim. </p><p>A good thing, too, because two hours ago Juno stumbled into the meeting room in heels and a deep red dress <em> slit halfway up his thigh </em> to inform Peter that they are going to dinner earlier than expected.</p><p>Despite the hours Peter had spent spitefully winging eyeliner sharp as knives across his eyelids and fashioning a sharp smile to match… well. Then Juno stumbled in, and he felt like he was drowning. </p><p>Isn’t it ironic that after all the honey pot missions, after all the seductions gone right, a washed up detective-turned-criminal from Mars is the one to flip his own tricks back around on him.</p><p>
  <em> Twice. </em>
</p><p>He allows himself a moment of weakness to observe the soft curve of Juno’s stomach and the way his hair has grown out just enough to be wrangled into a brush of coils on top of his head… and swallows painfully. </p><p>
  <em> This isn’t productive, not for the mission, and not for Juno, who’s made his position so very clear. </em>
</p><p>Still, he doesn’t quite look away fast enough, and Juno’s face flushes under the attention. </p><p>“Leaving at 1800, <em> Ransom.</em> Captain’s orders.” The door shuts behind him with a bit more force than necessary. It’s been like this all week.</p><p>Juno, speaking as few words to Peter as possible. Peter, nursing his ego away from the prying, curious eyes of the crew.</p><p>
  <em> It’s been a physical thing. Nothing to do with you, you’ve gotta understand... </em>
</p><p>Peter has never been on the receiving end of an “it’s not you, it’s me” speech- he’s generally the one giving them, wiping tears from distraught cheeks as he pockets one final keycard or bracelet- but he’d be a fool not to recognize the panic in Juno’s eyes.</p><p><em> A fool indeed</em>. They might have crossed the threshold of mere crewmates, but to assume his amorous feelings were reciprocated?  </p><p>The most frustrating part is that they’ve <em> done </em> this already. If a mourning, recently traumatized Juno didn’t want him, why would this new creature, softer and more confident, want anything to do with him? </p><p>
  <em> And after what he saw in his past…  </em>
</p><p>Well. If he examines it logically, any attention from Juno Steel is flattering. The blame rests solely with Peter for <strike>wanting</strike> assuming so much. For allowing that ridiculous show of emotion.</p><p>Maybe before <em> the incident </em> he could have kept things at a physical level. Maybe it would have been enough to have a piece of Juno, for however long he’d allow himself to be known. Now...</p><p>In lieu of a strictly physical relationship, clean professionalism is the best alternative. </p><p>This is what he tells himself as Juno slips out of the room, to a muffled voice in the corridor squealing, “Mistah <em> Steel</em>, oh, you look so nice! You’re gonna break some hearts tonight!”</p><p>Juno’s response is embarrassed. “I’m gonna break my ankles, honestly. But… thanks, Rita.”</p><p>
  <em> File it away. </em>
</p><p>If the former detective wants “a physical thing”, that’s what he’s going to get. <em> Peter Nureyev </em> might have lost his edge to a pretty face. </p><p>But as Juno pointed out, he has plenty of identity crises to choose from.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Another drink, Karalius?” </p><p>“Oh, don’t mind if I do-- my lovely companion is designated driver tonight,” Peter slurs, winking at Juno. He reaches up from where he’s slouched against the booth cushions to trace a pattern on his date’s bare shoulder. Juno catches his hand and removes it with a tired sigh. </p><p>Tonight they are Karalius Monn and Circe Deimos, full-time bachelor and rising triple-threat starlet. </p><p>“Anything for you, sweetheart?”</p><p>“Got anything for his dignity?” Juno jerks his head at Peter, who is currently pretending to slump into his neighbor's lap. Kyla only snorts. "No? I'm good then."</p><p>Apparently after the Zolotovna debacle, Juno decided he wasn't cut out for 'loving partner', and is leaning hard in the other direction.</p><p>Circe's main personality trait is exasperation.</p><p>Their target finds this endearing. Kyla Umbrian, firstborn of business mogul Morra Umbrian, adjusts their suit and swans off to order another round of shots. It’s their fifth round in two hours (not to mention the novelty drinks).</p><p>Peter tells himself he’s only acting for the part; Monn is known for his overindulgence, and it’s not like Peter’s <em> actually </em> drinking on the job. But the annoyance on Juno’s face as Peter finds ever more elaborate ways to dispose of his drinks (swapped with a neighbor, dumped on a plant, in the brim of an especially elaborate hat)? Priceless. </p><p>The central area has been cleared for dancing, a few standing tables scattered around the edge of the floor and an open bar curving around the perimeter. Private booths for the VIP’s dot the outskirts, and Peter cinched an invitation to Kyla’s early on.</p><p>Since then, he has been <em>not</em> watching Juno field offer after offer to dance, fiddling with the straps of his dress. He <em> didn’t </em> notice the surprised way Juno’s head jerked up at an apparently familiar song, or find it at all endearing when Juno started mindlessly mouthing the lyrics (he caught Peter’s eye and his mouth snapped shut, neck flushing). </p><p>He certainly <em> can’t be bothered </em> with the way Juno’s eyes trail their overly flirtatious waiter. </p><p>It’s simply not relevant. </p><p>Peter<em> does </em>take notice when he orders food in fluent Cyllene (a blatant flattery attempt directed at a nearby Kyla) and Juno turns to him, mouth hanging slightly open.</p><p>The thief raises an eyebrow. “You’re going to catch flies, my dear.”</p><p>“I--” Juno clears his throat. “I didn’t know you spoke Cyllene.” To Peter’s delight, his face flushes slightly. He leans in, dropping his voice to a teasing whisper.</p><p>“Why, I would have told you much earlier if I knew it would elicit this sort of reaction,” he brushes a thumb over Juno’s cheek. </p><p>Juno jerks back so fast he almost topples his chair over. “I need another drink.” </p><p>This sort of behavior isn’t out of character for an overwhelmed pop star on his first social appearance (or a former detective playing backup to a thief). But at one point he reaches to casually massage the tense lines from Juno’s shoulders, and Juno actually knocks a drink onto his dress. </p><p>“Whoops, looks like I ruined my favorite dress. Better go freshen up.”</p><p>His tone is completely flat (if not outright hostile). Peter hopes their current party will be too tipsy to notice. </p><p>No one blinks an eye, but he still waits a few moments before rising to weave through the crowded ballroom after the furious lady. He finally catches Juno in the deserted hallway outside one of the smaller bathrooms. </p><p>“Circe!”</p><p>Juno ignores him, reaching for the door, and Peter catches his arm in a light hold. “Are you all-”</p><p>Juno wrenches his arm out of Peter’s grasp like he’s been burned. Peter tries to back up, but in the small alcove his back hits the wall. </p><p>“<em>What is your </em> problem <em> tonight, Ransom</em>?” Juno hisses, and Peter is reminded of a prey animal backed into a corner, hackles raised, trying to appear larger than it actually is. </p><p>He raises his hands instinctively. Glances down the hall. <em> They’re alone</em>. Softens his voice.</p><p>“I just wanted to make sure that you’re alright, Juno. That’s all. I worried this might not be… it doesn't all seem part of the act.”</p><p>An unreadable expression crosses Juno’s face, and he searches for something in Peter’s eyes. Whatever he’s looking for, he doesn’t find it. He visibly deflates.</p><p>“Whatever. Could you just--” he runs an awkward hand up and down his arm, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “Forget it. Let’s just get what we’re after and get out of here.”</p><p>The door swings shut in Peter’s face with a rush of cool air. He reaches to catch it, to say something, do <em> something </em>…</p><p>...and lets it close silently, resting his fingertips on the dark wood for only a moment before turning back to the party.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Peter blocks out everything but the mark for the next hour. It's what he should have been doing the entire time, trusting that Juno can take care of himself. His partner returns shortly and seats himself as far from Peter as possible.</p><p>Before, he might have read into this. Now he forces a chuckle and leans towards the woman next to him to ask after their host's whereabouts. </p><p>He's sure Kyla is minutes away from passing over the prize; keycards that allow the owner into Umbrian’s galaxy-renowned after parties.</p><p>Coincidentally, the keycards are rumored to be coded with the same technology that powers their father’s new security system. Score a couple of those, escape under the guise of a small distraction, and make it back to the Carte Blanche where Rita is waiting. Clean. Simple. </p><p>“WHA- what the <em> fuck </em> is that?!”</p><p>If he weren’t so disciplined, Peter might have flinched. Kyla has returned to their table balancing a round of shots that they neatly maneuvered onto the table… over Juno’s shoulder on his blind side. </p><p>The shots also appear to be on fire, shooting flames at least a couple feet into the air. </p><p>Juno stumbles back in shock, his chair tipping into some swotty socialite who serves him a dirty look. Peter half rises to do-well, something to <strike>make sure Juno's all right</strike> salvage the situation- when Kyla flips one shining braid over their shoulder and lets out a cackle of delight. </p><p>“Oh, you- you poor dear! New money, am I right?”</p><p>The tension breaks. They flash a conspiratorial look at the rest of the table before turning back to Juno. “You all right, sweetheart? It’s only Phantasy Flame, of course!” </p><p>Relieved, Peter sinks back into his seat and raises a napkin to his mouth to hide the very un-Monn-like grin creeping over his face. Juno splutters, one hand thrown up like he’s trying to pull words out of the air. It’s so familiar it nearly breaks Peter’s heart. </p><p>“Well I- <em>excuse me </em> for not wanting to stick my arm in your alcoholic bonfire! I left my fireproof suit at home tonight,” he snarks.</p><p>Kyla’s voice turns conspiratorial. “Oh <em>no</em> darling, I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your <em> dashing </em> date. Please, come back to the table? I promise I’ll protect you,” they weave their hand in and out of the rising blue flames with an easy smile to demonstrate its harmlessness.</p><p>“Thanks, think I’m gonna grab my own drink,” Juno grits out, stalking away towards the bar.</p><p>It truly isn’t the former detective’s fault that he isn’t familiar with the powders the Cyllene elite like to mix with their drinks. Peter’s seen a whole host of unnatural effects, many of them less than legal (and often flammable). He quickly dismisses the urge to follow Juno- to soothe the crease in his lady’s brow, maybe tease out a real smile. Too uncharacteristic for the drunken narcissist he's playing. </p><p>
  <em>Besides, Juno isn’t "his" anything. </em>
</p><p>Not here, as Circe Deimos, and certainly not back on the ship. Not in any galaxy, because in every single one there is Juno, walking away, and there is Peter, trailing behind and hoping for scraps.  </p><p>It feels like the edge of a revelation, or deja vu, but Peter trails a finger through the flakes of glitter on Kyla’s shoulders and forces his mind back to the present. </p><p>
  <em> He can’t help but wonder if Juno’s watching as Kyla leans in to whisper in his ear- </em>
</p><p>“I haven’t had this much fun in <em> ages</em>.” They slip a hand into Peter’s suit pocket to withdraw his spectacles, perching them on their nose with a smirk. “You can’t imagine how bored I’ve been, same old faces, all my father’s friends. Your gal is a <em> scream</em>.” They press two small cards into Peter’s palm. “For later. You’ll need these to get in. Ah, and you can tell your girlfriend they’re in gypsum cases- fireproof.” They wink, and then turn back to one of their neighbors. </p><p>Well. That’s it then. They have what they came for, and it isn’t even midnight. All that’s left is to collect Juno from where he’s slouched at the bar, downing a water and eying an attractive waiter carrying flutes of champagne.</p><p>He feels a flare of irritation. <em>Kyla doesn't seem to be planning on returning his glasses after all, and they were his favorite pair</em>.</p><p>Peter clutches the crystal keycards in his pocket until his palms sting, blinks furiously, and then slips from the booth.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Vespa scowls deeply at the comms screen.</p><p>“Rita could’ve handled this remotely with her hands tied behind her back. <em> Literally</em>. You only sent them because they’re fighting again.” </p><p>Buddy shoots her a wicked grin, winding her arms around her girlfriend’s waist. </p><p>“Well of course I did, darling. It’s an incredibly low stakes mission, there’s no way they can muck it up.” She adjusts the pins in her hair and rests her chin on Vespa’s head. “And you have to admit the pining was getting unbearable.”</p><p>Vespa scoffs. “Again. It was getting unbearable <em> again</em>. Seems to be a pattern with those two.” But she leans into Buddy’s embrace. On screen, Juno nurses a water and stares longingly at the flutes of champagne parading past. “At least he’s stopped draining our liquor supply dry.” </p><p>Buddy chuckles, the warm puffs of breath lifting her cropped hair. “Self-destruction is often described as a “spiral”, is it not? Recovery could be... similarly shaped.” </p><p>Vespa gets the sudden, unwelcome impression they aren’t just talking about Juno anymore. And yeah, to be fair, taking a shot at Juno’s addictions was a low blow. But <em> still.</em></p><p>“Straight on, it looks like you’re going in the same circles,” the captain muses. She smiles down at Vespa, drawing her chin up. “But step to the side, and it’s clear you’re headed somewhere entirely new.” </p><p>Vespa’s face burns. She pokes a finger at Buddy’s chest. “Oh no. We are not making this about…” As if <em> she </em> has anything in common with the crass detective. “This is making fun of Steel time. If you love me, you’ll let me have this.” </p><p>Buddy’s laugh is loud and easy. “Careful, love, or I’ll start sending the two of you on missions alone until you can get along.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t,” Vespa growls.</p><p>Buddy sighs fondly. “No, I suppose that’s more likely to end in flames than reconciliation.”</p><p>Vespa settles back into her partner’s embrace until she glances black at the screen- and does a double take. With wide eyes, she thumbs at the comms screen. “Speaking of flames.”</p><p>Somehow, in the last twenty seconds or so, chaos has descended upon the party. Red and orange sparks lick at the camera lens tucked in one of Ransom’s shirt buttons. The camera is wildly swinging. Juno’s voice crackles over the comms. </p><p>“PEACHES. This is, uh, definitely a peaches situation, there are many, many <em> peaches.</em> Rita? Rita?! Oh, f--” Juno’s voice cuts out as something large slams into Ransom’s shirt camera, and the unit cuts out. </p><p>Buddy pinches the bridge of her nose and swears tiredly. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The ride up from the outer docking station is entirely silent. </p><p>Juno fiddles one-handed with the straps on his heels, finally snapping the buckle off one in frustration. He slumps back against the old cargo box he’s seated on, injured arm cradled in his lap. Every once and a while he tries to cross his arms out of habit, wincing when the second degree burns stretching down his shoulder and left arm protest. </p><p>It’s painful to watch.</p><p>The compartment fits into the decompression chamber with a click, and Juno doesn’t even budge. A quiet hissing fills the air. </p><p>He’s shivering, Peter can see from his position leaning against the wall a few feet away. Too far to reach unless one of them moves closer.</p><p>Peter removes his singed jacket and tosses it lightly at Juno’s feet. His eye widens, but he still doesn’t look up as his fist closes around the silky fabric.</p><p>“Looks like I should’ve brought the fireproof suit after all,” Juno murmurs with a self-deprecating chuckle, as if he knows the joke will fall flat. Suddenly Peter’s thoughts are a swirling cloud of red.</p><p>
  <em> Panic as he rolls to the floor and wrestles with his burning coat. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Confusion as a warm weight slams into him from above, rolling him away from the collapsing bar just before something under the counter explodes.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The knife in his hand before he recognizes the familiar face buried in his neck. </em>
</p><p>Peter raises his eyes to the man who told him he couldn’t handle a relationship and then shielded Peter’s body from a blast of fire with his bare shoulders. </p><p>“You <em> really are something,</em>” he forces out. If they've been walking on glass this past week, that glass has shattered. </p><p>He had almost reached Juno’s perch at the bar when everything went south. The bartender must have bit off more than he could chew- a tall woman near Peter sloshed a novelty drink down her front, and the next thing Peter knew she was stumbling sideways into the thief, screaming as real flames licked the front of her suit.</p><p>Security managed to put out the fire reasonably quickly, but not fast enough to save the extremely flimsy (and flammable) bar station. <em> Not fast enough to save Juno’s arm</em>.</p><p>Juno registers Peter’s words before registering the tone- <em> You really are something- </em>and glances up with a pathetic hope in his eyes. It flickers out under Peter’s furious gaze.</p><p>“Wait, are you- what’s that supposed to mean? I- I guess I shouldn’t hold my breath for a ‘thank you’?!”</p><p>“Thank you? For uselessly injuring yourself by jumping in front of a-- a minor explosion? I thought we were past that behavior, <em> detective</em>,” he spits, hands shaking. <em> Fileitawayfileitawayfileitaway- </em></p><p>Juno, flushed and indignant, rises from his makeshift seat.</p><p>“<em>Uselessly-</em> Right, because <em> that’s </em> how you see me, isn’t it? No matter how many times we start over, no matter what I do to prove I’ve changed- I mean... I’ll never come back from that, will I?” </p><p>Peter opens his mouth to argue, but he can’t pretend that his mind isn’t tracing patterns from the last job that led to catastrophe that led to Juno sacrificing himself that led to...</p><p>Juno scoffs at his silence. </p><p>“That’s- No. I get it. Whatever. You tried, it didn’t work. But look around!” Juno shakes Peter’s charred jacket with his bad arm and winces (<em>Peter feels that wince in his bones</em>), “Your one-man show isn’t cutting it anymore! And if I can’t- if you won’t let me-” his voice cracks. “I’m not going to apologize for saving your life, Nur- <em> Ransom!”  </em></p><p>Peter can’t tell if there are footsteps in the hallway or if it’s the blood pounding in his ears.</p><p>“I’m not asking-!” He smooths an errant lock of hair from his forehead. Forces his jaw to relax. “I don’t think you’re useless, Juno, <em> of course </em> I don’t. You’re not the detective I left on Mars. I just never expected…” as he’s searching for words, Juno sighs and drags a tired hand over his face. </p><p>“And that’s the elephant in the room, isn’t it? My name got you here, but you never thought you’d actually end up stuck in open space with me.” Peter’s eyebrows crease. <em> What? </em>   “So what, I’m supposed to pretend we’re just- former colleagues? Flirt for the job, and then turn it off? That’s what you want? Because that… god, it <em> hurts, </em> but I’m really trying not to make this difficult on you, Ransom.” </p><p>Juno sounds exhausted, but Peter’s suddenly very, very awake.</p><p>“You’re- Juno, this is what <em> you </em> wanted. I’m playing by rules that <em> you </em>set,” he says slowly, feeling untethered. He doesn’t allow himself to hope, not a third time, but… </p><p>“What…rules, what,” Juno’s voice wavers a bit. “What the hell does that even <em> mean</em>-”</p><p>...There really is no way he could have misinterpreted what Juno said, is there?</p><p>There’s a hiss of air as the decompression chamber unlocks automatically. A small form is waiting on the other end, small hand clutched over her mouth.</p><p>Peter abruptly realizes that the decompression chamber walls are thick, echo-ey, and definitely not soundproof.</p><p>Rita waves a hand awkwardly.</p><p>“Uhhhh… sorry to interrupt Boss, but Vespa says we need to get that taken care of real quick or it’ll scar. Actually she said ‘or it’ll be more trouble than it’s worth and I might just go back to bed,’ I’m paraphrasin’. But I can tell her you’re havin’ a real important conversation with--” </p><p>“NOPE. No, hah, Rita, don’t do that, I’ll just, head over. Right now.” </p><p>He trails after Rita and only turns back once, throwing a soft, confused gaze over his shoulder. </p><p>So Peter nearly jumps out of his skin when he exits the pod to see Buddy, her flat gaze freezing him in his tracks. She pushes off the opposite wall to meet him. </p><p>“I prefer to stay out of interpersonal squabbles- bound to happen, especially in our situation.”</p><p>“Captain, I’m-”</p><p>Buddy cuts him off.</p><p>“But our next mission is more than a glorified grocery run. It’s all hands on deck, and this,” she gestures between Ransom and the space that Juno left, “isn’t going to cut it. I expect the whole, messy business tied up before next week.” With a pointed look, she’s gone.</p><p>Peter doesn’t remember making it back to his room, but the next thing he knows he’s latching the door shut behind him and stumbling to the floor behind the safety of his door. He curls his knees to his chest. </p><p>His breaths are coming strangely short, and it isn’t <em> fair</em>, it isn’t fair that he only has a broken heart and a distaste for card games when Juno has lost an eye and scorched his arm, and Peter comes out unharmed again like he always does, like he always will, as everyone around him suffers and dies-</p><p>A spark of pain brings Peter back for a moment. His hand has crept up to clutch his mouth and his chest is heaving. <em> Panic attack</em>, his brain supplies. He hasn’t had one in years, and resents that now that he’s physically safe he feels constantly on the verge.</p><p>It takes him a moment to pull his mind from the endless spiral, but finally, he begins to count.<em> One</em>, Juno, <em> two</em>, Brahma, <em> three,</em> Buddy, <em> four</em>, Mags, <em> five</em>, Juno, hold it for the same, then out for one, two, three, four... </p><p>Eventually, he’s aware of cool metal on his cheek. There’s a cramp in one leg and pins and needles in the other. The material of his shirt feels a bit scratchy. His face feels damp, and he’s surprised when he reaches a hand up and finds his cheeks wet. </p><p>He feels… not better. But more present. A bit sharper. He tells himself that he’ll go to the medbay now, and if Juno’s awake, he’ll sit down until he’s sure they understand each other.</p><p>When he gets there, the beds are empty and the lights are out. He sleeps on top of his sheets that night, burrowed into the pile of discarded clothes like a child.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The next morning, Peter is still trying to figure out how one instigates a conversation when one isn’t even <em> entirely </em> sure of the topic, when he exits the kitchen to find Juno leaning against the opposite wall. He’s swirling a cup of coffee around in his hand, but straightens when Peter emerges.</p><p>“Guessing Buddy gave you the “kiss and make up” speech as well, yeah?” A violent flush spreads across Juno’s face when he realizes what he just said. “I mean, no, that’s not-”</p><p>“Turn of phrase,” Peter forces out somewhat naturally, though his face feels warm as well. “Shall we…” he nods towards the empty meeting room. Juno nods.</p><p>They settle on the couch in silence. Juno starts picking at a frayed spot on the couch. His face is determined, and when Peter fails to speak for many moments, he sighs and glances up.</p><p>“Look, can we maybe just- I’m pretty sure I know where we stand on things. But you said some stuff last night,” he rubs an awkward hand over the back of his neck. “Can you maybe just tell me what you got out of that conversation the morning after I left?” He winces at the double implications, but pushes on. “But this time we’ll actually listen to each other?”</p><p>Peter straightens his glasses. His mouth is dry and he can't raise his eyes from the white swaths of fabric encasing Juno's arm.</p><p>"Don't." Peter's eyes fly up.</p><p>"I just-"</p><p>"You're staring at my arm like you killed it's pet or... something... ugh, bad analogy. God, Ransom, it wasn't your fault, can we please just drop it?" Peter sighs and leans back with a shrug.</p><p>“For now then, I suppose, our previous conversation would be a reasonable starting point." Juno makes a vague motion to continue.</p><p>"After you explained that I had made you uncomfortable by misconstruing the nature of our relationship-”</p><p>“Wait, after I <em> what</em>?”</p><p>Peter’s raises his eyebrows. “I thought we were listening-”</p><p>“No, sorry, you’re right... uh, go ahead then?” Juno draws his words out slowly. Peter rubs his thumb and index finger together, feeling a bit less confident.  </p><p>“Well, after you communicated that you’d prefer to engage in a purely physical relatio-”</p><p>“<em>Goddamn it, </em> Ransom, I never- okay, unless I have an evil clone running around here somewhere? I have <em> no idea </em> what you’re talking about!”</p><p>Peter crosses his arms, agitated. “I’m not trying to <em> guilt </em> you Juno, I’m just trying to understand-”</p><p>“We weren't even <em>talking</em> about you-!” </p><p>“I <em>am</em> the one who assumed things, Juno-”</p><p>“<em>Stop!</em> Just. Stop, okay?” The words are harsh but his tone is almost... fond? “I know I said you could go first, but the things you’re saying are… very wrong. It’s my turn for a minute.”</p><p>Peter makes a disgruntled noise. Juno holds up a hand.</p><p>“I guess I didn’t really word this right at all, I’ve never… I mean, yeah, I’ve never tried to do this before, but I’m ‘asking for the things I need,’ so. Um. I didn’t leave because I was expecting anything from that night,” Juno’s eyebrows draw together, “I know talking about that stuff isn't easy for you, I was really happy you trusted me with it.</p><p>I just, I was so tired, and we had a job the next day, and I knew if I stayed I wouldn’t fall asleep. I… can’t, having people in… bed, with me, it just sets something off in my brain- it’s NOT you, it’s not- I mean, you’re-”</p><p>As comprehension dawns, Peter watches Juno struggle for words. It hurts almost as badly as seeing the bandages trailing up his arm. He worked up the courage to share something deeply personal and uncomfortable. And what had Peter done? Treated him with coldness and cruelty.</p><p>Peter listens, asks questions where it feels appropriate. The ship is beginning to wake up, and as the rest of the crew stirs, Juno shakes his head. “I guess… we should probably talk about this more later-” he falls silent as Jet’s heavy footsteps plod towards the garage. Peter takes advantage of the silence.</p><p>“You’ve had partners before, I assume?” he asks quietly. Juno nods. </p><p>“Yeah, I- yeah.” They’ve drifted closer over the course of their talk, and Peter resists the urge to take Juno’s hands as he worries at his nail polish.</p><p>“What did you do then?”</p><p>The detective shrugs. “Honestly, back then I was usually black-out drunk, high off my ass, or too exhausted to function by the time I stumbled into bed. I don't think anyone ever noticed, I mean... I didn't really think about it much."</p><p>“That doesn’t sound very restful.”</p><p>“Yeah, no. I know it's stupid, we’re safe- I mean, relatively, whatever-”</p><p>Peter thinks of the previous night, years of built-up fear breaking over him in the safety of his room behind a locked door. <em>If you're a fool, then I am too. </em>Though Juno might be too grounded to ever understand the itchy feeling of sliding into someone else's skin and forgetting how to take it off, there is more than one way to feel trapped.</p><p>He suddenly realizes that besides Miasma, he couldn't put a face to any of Juno's fears.</p><p>Juno is waiting for a response.</p><p>“I... you were right. What you said last night, I... didn’t expect to see you again.” Juno’s expression drops a bit and he rushes on, “but I had hoped! I- hoped, that I would, Juno. There wasn't a day..." he trails off and clears his throat. "That being said- forgive me for the crude phrasing, but you’ve seen the worst day of my life played out in high definition, yet you don’t know my favorite food. And I know the circumstances surrounding your brother’s death, but... I've realized that I don’t even know his name.”</p><p>Juno is silent for a long while, searching for words, and Peter almost wonders if he's said anything coherent thus far. Then- “Ben. His name was Ben.” </p><p>“I- thank you, Juno. I would very much like to know more about him someday, if you felt comfortable sharing? I want to understand. But I… I do hope you know I <em> never </em> want you to make yourself uncomfortable on my behalf. Of all the impossible situations we've encountered, I- well. This is not an impossible situation.” </p><p>His eyes land once again on the white bandages contrasted against dark skin. "And Juno, I'm so-"</p><p>"I <em>will</em> tell Vespa it was you who lost her knife on Proteus if you finish that sentence." </p><p>It's a decent threat. Peter blinks away the warmth behind his eyes and throws a dramatic hand across his brow. "You wouldn't dare, detective!" </p><p>Juno lets out a breathy chuckle, grabs Peter’s free hand, and sinks sideways onto the couch cushions. His hair brushes Peter's thigh and his eye drifts shut. Peter tries to compose his face into something less embarrassing. Less surprised, less... awestruck.</p><p>“What<em> is </em> your favorite food then, <em> Ransom</em>?” Juno asks playfully, without moving. The warm feeling rising in Peter's chest falters a bit.</p><p>“I don’t… I don’t actually know. I don’t think I have one.” He almost expects a 'we can figure it out together,' or some observation about the way he prefers his steak. It never comes.</p><p>Juno shrugs, eye still closed. “Not everyone does.” </p><p>Quick and simple. <em> Not everyone does. </em> </p><p>Maybe... he doesn’t have to have an opinion about everything. His aliases might have all the answers, but perhaps Peter Nureyev does not. </p><p>Perhaps that makes him a bit more human.</p><p>And if he starts that night in Juno's doorway and ends it curled around his detective on the couch in a sweaty pile, with Rita's foot in his face and some old children's stream in the background?</p><p>Well. At least they're trying. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><em>"Could've followed my fears all the way down<br/></em> <em>And maybe I don't quite know what to say<br/></em> <em>But I'm here in your doorway..."</em></p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not sure how I feel about this ending but I am dooooone XD Been toying with the idea of a follow up set before this story but after the s1 finale with a heartbroken Peter running into one of Juno's exes bc it fits with the lyrics? Lmk if that's interesting to anyone</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I SAID HAPPY ENDING COME BACK. Peter's up next chapter ;) </p><p>(Please lmk if I missed any tw's, comments are love mixed with coffee, you know the drill. Come yell with me about podcasts on tumblr @sav-en-guard)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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